


Dorian falls asleep while researching in the library

by cathybites



Series: Adoribull Prompt Sunday stories [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites





	Dorian falls asleep while researching in the library

Dorian wakes with a start, panicking slightly when he has trouble moving his limbs, calming only when he realizes there’s a blanket snugly wrapped around him. He huffs a bit and wriggles his arms free, taking a moment to smooth his hair and moustache before looking around. He’s still in the nook he’d claimed for his own in the library, and the tome he’d been reading - *trying* to read, if he’s perfectly honest with himself - is on the floor by his chair, pages fluttering a bit, almost accusingly. It’s dark, and judging by the quiet, rather late.

Not too late for revelry, though, as Dorian can hear voices and music coming from the tavern. He knows it’s not possible to pick out a singular voice from the cacophony, not even one as booming as Bull’s, but he tries anyways, biting down on the smile that forms when he thinks he can make out that distinctive laughter.

Unwrapping himself from the blanket, Dorian stretches out, then stands slowly. He scowls at the book, yet another tedious history of ancient Tevinter with nothing new to say, and considers tossing it out the window. He sighs, and picks it up, placing it on his chair.

Only then does he fully notice the blanket, and he realizes that it’s familiar to him. A frightening monstrosity made of pink samite and what passes for lace in Ferelden, he doesn’t know how many times he had threatened Bull that he was going to burn it. The only reason he hasn’t done so yet is because of Bull’s aggravating ability to completely distract him while he’s spread out on it.

He’s not sure what he’s more mortified by - the fact that he doesn’t know how many people saw him cocooned in the hideous thing, or the warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of Bull finding him asleep, only to run all the way to his room and back just wrap him up in the blanket.

Dorian picks it up, holding it delicately with his fingertips. He’s professed his hatred for the blanket over and over, but he only glares at it before clutching it close, breathing in deeply. There’s the familiar scent of the oils he uses on his skin and hair, but underneath, more comforting and soothing than Dorian would ever admit out loud, there’s the familiar musk of Bull. The scents mix together, and Dorian takes another breath, filling his lungs to bursting, before releasing it slowly.

From the window in his nook, he can see across the courtyard to Bull’s room. Light shines from the windows and the roof, warm and inviting. Dorian only hesitates for a moment before folding the blanket neatly and heading down the stairs to return the blanket - and, perhaps, himself - to its proper place.


End file.
